


inscription

by imagines



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Biting, M/M, OtaYuri Week, OtaYuri Week 2017, Pet Names, Scratching, Topping from the Bottom, first time leaving marks, fluffy kink, masochist!Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-25 23:39:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9852170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagines/pseuds/imagines
Summary: “Why do you wear pants like this when youknowthey’re coming off later?” Otabek grumbles, finally getting the fucking waistband down past Yuri’s hips.Yuri smirks. “I know you like them, because they make you grab my ass. Sobite me.”(Prompt: "First times/Confessions." Also Yuri is over 18.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I, uh. I saw “first times/confessions” and I thought, sweet, I’ll write some cute fluffy shit about kissing or something. And then my brain went “but what if you wrote porn though?” So… that’s how this happened.

Here’s how it starts: like usual, they’re in a hotel room at a competition, hoping to climb so far inside each other that the upcoming months of distance won’t shatter this thing. This small and precious thing, its foundation laid years ago in the tangerine glow of a Barcelona sunset—a handshake; a homecoming.

When Otabek had finally said exactly how he felt, Yuri had punched him in the chest, called him an asshole, and cried from relieved and furious joy while Otabek held him tight and kissed his eyelids, his cheeks, his mouth. Some months later, Yuri had lain down between Otabek’s legs and held his gaze and said, “Are we doing this?” Then, in that first of many hotel rooms, he’d pressed kisses to the insides of Otabek’s thighs while he pushed his fingers deep, dragging ragged cries from Otabek’s throat.

And now they’re here, Otabek struggling to get Yuri’s obnoxiously-tight jeans off him, Yuri laughing and squirming under him on the bed and making it much more difficult than it already is.

“Why do you wear pants like this when you _know_ they’re coming off later?” Otabek grumbles, finally getting the fucking waistband down past Yuri’s hips.

Yuri smirks. “I know you like them, because they make you grab my ass. So _bite me_.”

“Maybe I should.” And Otabek’s joking, sure, but he doesn’t miss Yuri’s little gasp or his wide eyes. He tilts his head, watching the flush spreading across Yuri’s cheeks. “Wait, really?”

“I, um.” Yuri closes his eyes. “I’m—not opposed to the idea.”

“You think about that?” Otabek yanks Yuri’s jeans off the rest of the way, along with his underwear.

Yuri shivers in the sudden chill of total exposure. “Yeah,” he whispers.

Straddling one of Yuri’s thighs, Otabek curls forward and gives Yuri’s shoulder an experimental nip. Beneath him, Yuri’s eyes shoot open but his body goes slack, breath coming slow and deep.

“You can do it harder,” Yuri says, in a hazy sort of voice, almost like he’s half asleep.

Otabek drags his open mouth down Yuri’s torso, and when he reaches the junction of hip and thigh, just past Yuri’s hipbone, he bites. _Hard_.

Yuri makes a raw, rough noise, and Otabek moves back up to kiss him. The fabric of his t-shirt drags over Yuri’s cock, and Yuri’s hips jerk, but Otabek slowly lowers his body until Yuri’s pinned under his weight.

Yuri wraps his arms around Otabek, hands frantic, tugging at the hem of his shirt, shoving his fingers down the back of Otabek’s jeans. “Take these off,” he begs. “ _Please_ , Beka.”

“Whatever you need, kitten,” Otabek murmurs into Yuri’s ear, and he rises up to his knees so he can undress.

Yuri watches him the whole time, holding still now, wide-eyed. “I need you,” he breathes. “I need to know you were here with me.”

“You will,” Otabek tells him, lying down beside him. “Come here, love.”

Usually, they take their time, but tonight it’s hard and fast and desperate when Yuri fucks him. Otabek rakes his nails down Yuri’s back, inscribing his skin with memories for later. Home in Russia, Yuri will be able to look over his shoulder in a mirror and recall the sweat, the heat, the shattered sounds.

Otabek wraps his legs around Yuri and pulls him closer, deeper. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. “Come on, Yura, it’s all right, you can let go, don’t stop—”

Yuri tenses in his arms, gasping, quieter when he comes than at any other time, and drops motionless onto Otabek’s chest. Otabek holds him tightly, talking soft and gentle absolute nonsense, stroking the marks on his back, letting him catch his breath, letting him find his way back up. Finally Yuri’s able to pull out and roll off, where he immediately curls up against Otabek’s side. “What about you?” he asks.

“Don’t worry about it.” Otabek runs his fingers through Yuri’s hair, petting him until his eyes start to flutter closed. “Think you’ll remember all this later?”

Yuri grins into Otabek’s shoulder. “If I forget, you better be ready to get on a plane and come remind me.”

“Say the word and I’m there,” Otabek tells him, and the thing is, he’s not joking this time.


End file.
